Stuttering slightly, Ainslie asked, her voice filled with a mix of surprise and disbelief, "Y-you mean, you're the one who bought these houses, Clinton?""Yeah, I did so a couple of days ago," Clinton replied, his tone expressing a touch of pride. Ainslie's mind raced, trying to process the information. She mustered up the courage to ask the next question, her voice still tinged with stuttering uncertainty, "Y-you bought them for... how much?""Just fifty million dollars," Clinton responded casually as if it were a mere triviality. Ainslie gasped, her hand instinctively covering her mouth in shock. "Y-you... goodness, why would you purchase them?" Clinton looked at Ainslie with a tender smile. "Honestly, it was only until yesterday that I got to know that you and Bryson lived here before. I could see how much this house meant to you, and I wanted to do something special for you." Ainslie's eyes welled up with tears as she struggled to find the right words. "I... I cherish th
As he moved further into the house, Bryson's ears caught a faint sound—moanings that seemed out of place and filled the air with an uncomfortable tension. His gaze flicked towards the nearby room, his heart pounding in his chest. The realization of what might be happening behind that closed door began to dawn on him, filling him with a mix of anger, hurt, and a desire to uncover the truth. Summoning all his courage, Bryson approached the room, his footsteps growing heavier with every stride. With a deep breath, he pushed the door open, bracing himself for the confrontation that awaited him on the other side. To Bryson's greatest shock and dismay, as he entered the room, he was met with the heart-wrenching sight of his wife, Ainslie, riding another man atop the bed. Their intimate encounter had them both engrossed in the act, unaware of Bryson's presence until he let out a groan of disbelief and anguish. A groan escaped his lips, causing Ainslie to abruptly jump off the man's b
Determined to escape the suffocating environment that haunted him, Bryson turned away and left, his heart heavy with a sense of profound loss. Seeking solace or perhaps a temporary escape from his torment, Bryson found himself in a dimly lit bar. He ordered a series of drinks, attempting to drown his sorrows in a haze of alcohol. However, as the night wore on, it became apparent that he was unable to pay for his mounting orders. The realization struck him like a cruel blow, shattering any semblance of respite he had sought. The bar's patrons, irritated by his inability to settle his bill, grew increasingly hostile. In a degrading and brutal act, Bryson was mercilessly beaten by the bar's bouncers and thrown out onto the street like an unwanted stray. Bruised, battered, and emotionally shattered, he lay on the cold pavement, feeling utterly defeated. It seemed as though life had dealt him a final, crippling blow, leaving him with nothing more to fight for or hold onto. With a h
Bryson's eyes widened in disbelief, his mind struggling to absorb the weight of the revelation. He sat up straight on the bed, his curiosity piqued. "My parents... You know who they are?" he inquired, his voice filled with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. A tender expression crossed the woman's face as she nodded in affirmation. "Yes, I know your parents, Master. They were prominent figures in society, and their sudden demise shook the world. You are the sole heir of the esteemed Wyatt Group of Conglomerate." The words hung in the air, resonating deeply within Bryson. The mention of the Wyatt Group of Conglomerate, a name synonymous with wealth, power, and influence, left him speechless. His jaw dropped as he struggled to comprehend the magnitude of his heritage."T...the Wyatt Group of Conglomerate," Bryson stammered, his voice barely audible. The woman's smile widened, her eyes filled with a mix of pride and anticipation. It was as if she had been waiting for this moment,
Silence was on the verge of enveloping the room when the door swung open, revealing a man in his sixties rushing in with a sense of urgency. Bryson's attention was immediately drawn to the shock etched on the man's face, and as their eyes met, the man slowly removed his hat, fixing his gaze on Bryson in awe. Meanwhile, Sarah and Marissa gracefully spun and bowed in deference to the man, further deepening Bryson's confusion regarding his identity. The man's astonishment lingered as he pointed directly at Bryson, his voice filled with disbelief. "Is this him for real?" Sarah, acknowledging the man's inquiry, nodded respectfully. "Yes, sir." Bryson was taken aback by the man's reaction. As he approached Bryson, taking hold of his hand and falling to his knees with teary eyes, the weight of the situation became more apparent. The man's words resonated with emotion. "It's him. He still bears that face. Welcome back, son. I apologize for your forced absence from our lives for over
Cardo's gaze held unwavering determination as he revealed the daunting truth that lay before Bryson. "To take over the entire business as the rightful heir of the Wyatt Group conglomerate." Bryson's breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening in shock. The magnitude of the responsibility laid upon him was unfathomable. How could he possibly navigate a business empire with millions of employees and countless business partners? It seemed insurmountable, beyond his capabilities. Unable to conceal his apprehension, Bryson looked aside, grappling with the overwhelming prospect before him. His voice trembled as he confessed his doubts. "What do you say, Bryson?""I can't," Bryson admitted, his words laced with a mixture of insecurity and self-awareness. "I am inexperienced, and..." Cardo interrupted, his voice filled with unwavering faith. "I know you're inexperienced, but I believe in you, son." Bryson released a heavy sigh, torn between his reservations and the trust placed in
Ainslie's mind spun with disbelief. "What? You think that is possible?" she asked, her confusion evident.Clinton, oozing confidence, met her gaze and assured her, "It is possible if you truly desire me and...," he paused to peck her lips, playfully biting her bottom lip, eliciting a soft moan from her before releasing her. "If you truly want to embrace a beautiful life beyond being Bryson's miserable wife." Leaving her to contemplate his words, Clinton excused himself to freshen up, and Ainslie, still wrapped in the duvet, stood before the mirror, her eyes locked on her own reflection."I cannot continue living as a miserable woman. I deserve better," she whispered, her fingers caressing her hair as a sneer formed on her face.Soon, Clinton emerged dressed and pulled Ainslie into one final passionate kiss before departing. Returning to the opulence of the Pegasus Mansion, Ainslie stepped into the grand living room only to freeze as her father, Mark, unleashed a thunderous voice
In this emotionally charged encounter, Ainslie's anger becomes a palpable force as she defiantly steps forward, a growl escaping her lips, while Bryson responds with laughter, a stark contrast to her intense demeanor."I need a divorce, okay?" Ainslie's opening statement is a straightforward plea, met with Bryson's firm denial. His reply is concise, asserting his unwillingness to entertain the notion."You won't get a divorce. I've made myself clear." Ainslie, undeterred, attempts to play mind games, questioning Bryson's apparent lack of shame despite catching her in a compromising situation."Aren't you ashamed of yourself? You caught your fellow man having wonderful sex with your wife and you don't want to divorce me?" Her taunting tone, accompanied by a chuckle and a dramatic hair flip, seeks to provoke a reaction. Bryson responds with a rhetorical question, inviting her opinion."Aren't you ashamed of yourself?" Ainslie's manipulation escalates as she questions Bryson's mot